Relax! The title doesn’t mean that Susan has finally had enough and left me to carry on by myself 🙂 We’ve actually now arrived in Texas – the Lone Star state.

Why is it known as the Lone Star State you’re asking yourself. And if you’re not asking yourself this question then you’ve got to ask yourself why you’re not asking this question because its the question on everyone else’s lips. Come on, stay with me and I will tell you about the Alamo.

In the 1820’s, Texas was actually part of Mexico and was settled by around 300 American families. They were encouraged there by the Mexican dictator of the time to create a buffer zone between Mexico and the Comanche tribe.

In time, the Texan Americans and the Mexicans didn’t see eye to eye. Cultural differences – don’t quote me but I believe it was largely down to the Americans wanting to put ketchup on their Mexican food. They’re still putting it on everything today!

So the Mexicans sent a 5,000 strong army to sort out the rag tag Texan revolutionaries who were ensconced in the Alamo. 187 Texans, including Jim Bowie (bowie knife) and Davy Crocket, held out for 13 days but were eventually defeated and killed in the Mexican victory.

If you want to get a true life movie version of the Alamo story then it has to be the 1960 John Wayne movie ‘The Alamo’. Directed and produced by Big John, starring Big John as Davy Crocket and, wait for it, Richard Widmark as Jim Bowie. Movie gold!

Such was the American outrage, people flocked to Texas to support the cause and the American army, under the command of Sam Houston (now you know where the city name comes from), quickly defeated the Mexicans. Texas was now an independent country and for 9 years thereafter the Lone Star flag flew over the Republic.

Here’s us entering Texas – we didn’t have time to muck about with a selfie of the two of us so here’s something better.

Oh I know you’re missing your pictures of Susan, the poor wee soldier who pedals us across continents and puts up with me at the same time. So here’s your Susan picture to even it up.

What’s she doing I hear you ask? Well she’s certainly not fixing the bloody puncture cause that’s my job. She’s adding some interest to a picture that would otherwise just be a bike lying on its side.

What happened? Well, we were leaving Kinder at the beginning of our 77 miles to Orange when the tyre blew. Not just the inner tube but the sidewall of the tyre ripped and went with a whoosh.

Now please bear with me at this point as I’m going to go into a little detail for people that know about tyres. They’re kind of tyre fetish people. If you don’t care about tyres then look at the picture of Susan with forlorn sadness on her face and just skip a couple of paragraphs.

We’ve been using Schwalbe Big Apple tyres on the tandem and they’re ideally suited to the bike – they just ‘roll’ really well with a couple of lardies. Unfortunately, they’re not the hardest wearing of tyres. Incidentally, after four front wheel punctures we had changed the front tyre for a Continental Contact Plus Travel in New Orleans. Doesn’t roll as well but it has better puncture resistance. We left the Big Apple on the rear.

This morning the rear Big Apple went just like Eve had taken a bite out of it. Now in the Big Apple’s defence let me say that the roads in America are littered with all sorts of detritus. In Australia we really just came across dead kangaroos. Here in America I have to weave my way along the hard shoulder through odd bits of tyre, metal and wood. America clean up your roads!

The tyre was a gonner but, thankfully, we carry a spare. We smiled and the world was brighter. The rear tyre has now been replaced with a Schwalbe Marathon Supreme and this tyre is tougher than Charlton Heston. I could use a more modern movie star but I’m trying to be relevant to the people who read this blog 🙂

After the tyre was changed we had a great cycle to Orange and across the Texan border. The weather is decidedly cooler now. It won’t last but the skies are overcast and it’s in the mid 80’s F. We’re loving it.

After a great few days in NOLA it was good to be back on the road again so we could get to bed at a reasonable time – it’s back to our usual routine of rising at 0545hrs and lights out at 2100hrs.

Leaving NOLA was rather quite pleasant. Early morning traffic was light and there are a reasonable amount of bicycle lanes in the city centre.  We use Google maps in cities as it generally gives good suggestions for cycle routes through quiet neighbourhoods.  This morning we passed many ‘shotgun houses’ which consist of three to five rooms in a row with no hallway. It was a very popular style in American south after the Civil War and is said reference the idea that if all the doors were opened you could fire a shotgun cleanly from front to back.

Out of the city, we followed a fantastic cycle route along the top of a Mississippi River levee for 30 miles or so towards Laplace. What a great day of traffic free, trouble free cycling.

Tonight, however, is now three days later so just where are the Wallies now?

The Wallies are now 212 miles further down the road from NOLA, just outside a town called Kinder, and 906 cycling miles from the start in St Augustine. The next four days cycling will take us to Houston with everything all being well. Whilst we are trying to follow the American Cycling Association’s Southern Tier Route we did not want to pass by great cities like New Orleans and Houston. So whilst we are in this neck of the woods our cycle takes quite a detour from the recommended route. It’s not all about the cycling. It’s actually all about cities and beer. So far, to be honest, the cities have been more memorable than the beer.

The weather has cooled, thank goodness, but that’s because its now raining. The last two days have been largely wet although, thankfully, we continue to miss the heavy thunderstorms. That said, at least the rain has given us the chance to test my new rain clothing.

I’m talking about the trousers of course. When cycling, full length waterproof trousers are an encumbrance and far too hot to wear. Now some cyclists will just say let your shorts and legs get wet. Well thats fine but they’re not cycling all day in the rain and perhaps day after day with wet shorts. So I’ve made us both a pair of waterproof shorts by cutting the bottoms off waterproof trousers. Simple idea but have you seen it before?  They work reasonably marvellously and look rather natty (now there’s a good word). Susan was even caught sitting in McDonalds with them on and it had stopped raining several hours ago. So an essential fashion item and good for spilt food as well.  I’m an ideas factory!

Our pedal through the rain has been fine and the drivers of Louisiana have, on the whole, been very good. Thank goodness. On one occasion we cycled along a fairly busy raised causeway (across swampland) on the inside lane of a dual carriageway with no hard shoulder. Visibility was poor because of rain and road spray and, I would say, it’s probably amongst the most nerve racking four miles we have cycled on all our tours. On another occasion, we cycled over the Huey P Long bridge leaving Baton Rouge.  It’s never, ever a bridge to cycle across.  Two fast lanes, no hard shoulder and bridge joints across the carriageway with gaps so big they can easily take a bicycle wheel out.  So, in the same day, we experienced our two most difficult stretches of cycling in over 14,000km to date.  It was a double measure of Tennessee whisky for me that night.

As we are touring, all our motels are on the edge of town so we can avoid traffic and its easier to get a ground floor room. That’s because one of our priorities is parking for the bicycle and, invariably the bike sits in front of the television and fridge.

As soon as the gear is unloaded and the bike settled down for the night we go to the nearest gas station. This is our standard daily purchase when we finish.

As you can see, food is not the priority at end of a cycle.

As I’ve said before, as we are at the edge of town, eating options are usually very limited. Dinner tonight was a pizza from the gas station and they actually did a fine job.

Fully loaded pizza, large 25oz can of Michelin Ultra (tasteless but inoffensive) and a carton of mixed fruit pieces whilst watching the live Kavanaugh Senate Hearing on television and we nearly have a nice ending to the day.

Nearly? Well it will be perfect when I open my bottle of Woodford Reserve Distillers Edition Kentucky bourbon. You just shouldn’t leave me waiting 10 minutes on a pizza cooking when the garage has an adjoining liquor store!

I think the 77 miles tomorrow to Orange, Texas, is now gong to be even harder than it should be!

Did you know, New Orleans was founded in 1718, by a Frenchman named Bienville, and named in honour of the Duke of Orleans, who was the Regent of France at the time.

It then passed to the Spanish for 24 years before being swapped back to France in 1803. Guess what the French did? They quickly sold it to the Americans for $15 million.

When I say France sold it I actually mean Napoleon. He wanted cash to build up his army and go on a bit of a rampage and whilst $15 million may not seem like a lot of cash it is equivalent to over $600 billion in today’s value.

For that the Americans not only got New Orleans – the ‘Louisiana Purchase’ as it was called included land from 15 present American states and 2 Canadian provinces.  Not a bad deal.

The US has never looked back since and Napoleon became an Emperor, caused a whole lot of trouble with the American money, invaded any country he could reach and didn’t stop until he was defeated at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815.

So you could say New Orleans was indirectly responsible for Napoleon’s reign and all the trouble he caused. I appreciate historians will probably disagree and say its a more complex picture than that but I know you’re the kind of person who prefers a potted history and, even with this version, you’re interest is seriously waning and maybe you’ve already scrolled onto the pictures below.

To start up your interest again lets talk about something close to everyone’s heart and the question on everyone’s lips – what’s happening to the front wheel spokes that big lardy has been breaking due to his excessive weight?  Yes i know you don’t say it but that’s what you’re thinking.

Well after a bit of internet research and a visit to a couple of bike shops we ended up at Bicycle Michaels in the French quarter in NOLA. Here’s Susan sitting in the bike shop tired and bored – she’s been in more bike shops this trip than she has in the rest of her life.

Yes, as you can see, its a proper job bike shop and the oldest bike shop in New Orleans. Michael took our wheel under his care and replaced all the spokes. This is the third bicycle shop the front wheel has been in and, hopefully, the last. Thanks Michael.

So what about New Orleans? Well I can’t tell you everything that happened in our three days as I’ve already spent too long talking about some interesting history at the beginning. So here’s a quick summary.

Friday night we went to the French Quarter where we listened to jazz and blues at countless venues including the famous Spotted Cat.

I couldn’t believe how many free venues there were in NOLA with live music at all times of the day. You can’t pass a doorway in the central area without music drifting out.

Saturday morning I took Susan to a festival – the annual Fried Chicken festival. What a treat!

I’ve already mentioned that sharing fried chicken is the way to a happy relationship. Well you cant imagine the bonus points your relationship gets if you go to a fried chicken festival with over 50 stalls producing some of the best friend chicken in the world!  In the world!  I’ll say that once again in case your skimming over this section (you must be a salad person if you are) – the best fried chicken in the world!

And don’t think its just chicken and chips – our first snack was chicken wings (spicy, battered and deep fried of course) with beignets (that’s small donuts to you) and covered with a sweet pecan caramel sauce. Cosmopolitan or what?

Saturday night we went down the touristy Bourbon Street where Susan turned into a beer monster like her husband.

In case you’re wondering, Susan hasn’t shrunk – that’s a two pint plastic cup of beer. Yes I know its plastic but most of my drinks are from McDonalds so a plastic cup suits me fine. I would actually now prefer if my beer had a plastic lid and a straw! Then, if they could just make it refillable I don’t think i would ever go back to the UK!

Now I know you’ve already had enough pictures of Susan and I’m in danger it of overdoing it like i did with the history but I’ve at least got to share her night out outfit for New Orleans – she really did make an effort!

I’m sorry I didn’t manage to get her legs in. Moving on, here’s some other sights and sounds:

 

Now here’s a picture of our friend Martin who we met briefly on our journey. Martin as you may recall cycled across USA from the west coast to NOLA and finished the journey from Jacksonville to NOLA. Here’s Martin at the finish in a typical heroic cycle pose. Well done Martin!

Now, here’s a man, at the same location, who’s had too many absinthe cocktails at the wonderful Bar Tonique – I think he’s lifting an imaginary bicycle. Thankfully due to the shadows we cant really identify who this man is.

And there’s something else I must share with you that I haven’t yet shared with Susan. Yes I know she’s going to read it now and there may be some consequences but listen to this.

I’m in Bar Tonique having a few absinthe cocktails as you do. Oh by the way, the two most famous cocktails in NOLA are the Ramos Gin Fizz and the Sauzerac – the Sauzerac is made with absinthe, of course. Now back to the story after another interesting and stimulating fact.

So I’m in the bar with Susan, we’re in the city of the dead, its a full moon night and I need to go to the gents. I’m doing what guys do at the urinal and look up at the wall (as we do guys) and there’s this written:

Yup! Exactly!

Now the more astute of you will be thinking – what’s he doing taking his camera out in a gents toilet but I had to photograph it just in case I met a gory end. You cant tell a man drinking absinthe on a full moon night in the city of the dead, married to a Susan that everything’s going to be okay after he’s read that warning! I’m still here, of course, but maybe that’s just because I now wear silver bullet around my neck.

Finally, I can read your thoughts yet again. You’re thinking, you’ve been to one of the best music cities in the world so what about a music video from one of those many venues you visited. Jazz, blues, skiffle or country?

Well I will give you music, real sweet music – a duet of Harleys in Bourbon Street, courtesy of NOLA’s finest.

 

Eh? Nuff said.

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We arrived at our hotel and Susan had me down in the foyer in time for the grand opening party at 4pm for drinks and canapé.  Whilst we were quite a bit underdressed in trainers and shorts we quickly relaxed once the champagne flowed.  When Susan misplaced her champagne coupe the ‘wine waiter’ brought her a plastic tumbler. Each filI saved him three trips and Susan is never classy when there’s free stuff on the go!

After having appropriated some free goodie bags and t shirts we settled down in another room and it kind of went downhill from there.  Firstly, there were free oysters and for twenty minutes I tested how fast an oyster shucker could shuck whilst his colleague poured champagne in a continuous flow into my never ending glass.  If you don’t do free oysters and champagne to an absolute excess you need a life coach 🙂

Incidentally, these oysters were from Murder Point. Apparently, in 1927 there was a dispute about a sliver of land in Alabama between the Lawson and Copeland families over an oyster lease. A Copeland beat a Lawson with a baseball bat, set him in a rocking chair (every porch here has at least one rocking chair) and then shot him on his front porch. It’s been called Murder Point ever since.  The company even inappropriately says ‘oysters worth killing for’.

We finished off the evening with more free food, beer, champagne.  The Henry Cooper knockout punch (for the information of American readers he is a legendary British boxer) came when we started on the absinthe cocktails.  New Orleans and absinthe are legendary partners arising from the French influences in the city.  Sun, cycling and absinthe meant it was time for bed and zzzzzz.  New Orleans proper would have to wait until tomorrow.

Leaving Bay St Louis just after sunrise we made great time on Highway 90 towards New Orleans. The front wheel, with one broken spoke, behaved impeccably and we cruised through the bayou to Louisiana, our fourth State on this tour.

An early lunch at a gas station allowed us to refuel with some fried chicken. Susan is not really a fried chicken person but she is married to a fried chicken person and, as they say, ‘caring is sharing’. I might have just made that saying up but it says it all – its not every guy that would share his fried chicken!

We soon hit the suburbs of New Orleans with busy traffic and no hard shoulder. The inner city of New Orleans, however, is quite pleasant with cycle lanes throughout the city. The locals are actually quite pleasant to cyclists. So far, on our tour, our brief passage through Alabama was the tops for cycling in terms of considerate motorists. Louisiana is good but we have a long way to go before we can pass judgment. Florida, however, was pretty pants and Marianna, Florida, you can hang your heads in cycle shame.

55 miles later we arrived at our hotel.

Now the balloons were not for us. Coincidentally, our arrival was the same day as the official opening day of this hotel and Susan found out there was a bit of a drinks reception with canapés at 4pm and guests were invited. To be honest, I think the bellboy just invited her but I’m the guy that shares his fried chicken and so she looks after me and I got an invite too. So listen guys if you want the secret to a happy caring relationship the answer is fried chicken. I know its hard to share that greasy spicy tasty morsel of food but if you do just watch the face of the woman you care about light up.

So after getting the bike folded and stored in our room we put on our best slightly smelly clothes and really pretty smelly training shoes and went to our canapé party. But that’s a story for the next blog as it’s now 3 days later and there’s still too many bars with beer, music and food calling for me. What a wonderful city.

As the New Orleans motto says ‘laissez les bon temps rouler’ (let the good times roll).

So good we named it thrice.

Ps. we tried the selfie ‘together’ picture but we couldn’t see the picture on the phone in the sunlight and the sweat was running into our eyes and the flies were biting.

We left Pensacola as soon as we had finished our early morning breakfast in McDonalds and headed along Highway 292 towards Gulf Shores. Unfortunately, it was Sunday and by mid morning the traffic was heavy with locals heading for the beach. No hard shoulder meant it was a fraught cycle with so many trucks giving us little room to manoeuvre.

Just to clarify for people in the UK when I say ‘truck’ I refer to those vehicles with a flat bed at the rear, with 5 litre engines and oversized tyres. They’re everywhere – it’s the macho kind of thing to drive to go to Walmart and the shops. If I lived here I would obviously have one too and because it’s a macho kind of thing, my truck would be something like this 😃

Of course, I would always give cyclists their three feet minimum space just like the sign says:

We did have a break in our cycle along the busy highway as we suffered our third puncture of the tour. Now I know what you’re thinking – why didn’t he mention the other two. Well you see I had been banging on about the heat, I had been banging on and on about the spokes and I didn’t want to start on about the punctures. Just in case it put you off trying a cycling holiday like this for yourselves.

We had cycled 13,000 km across Canada and Australia with one single rear wheel puncture and today we had our third since leaving St Augustine.

Susan had a great idea though – why don’t we just pump it up again and go. Now I really don’t understand women’s logic at times but I was on the side of a busy road and didn’t feel like changing a tyre so I blew up the tyre and we cycled.

Of course, it started deflating within a mile, the steering went and I struggled to keep the bike straight. Women’s bl**dy logic I thought!

That’s when I saw heaven or at least ‘almost’ heaven – the golden m

Now I still don’t understand women’s logic but who can argue that there’s no better place to fix a puncture than with a strawberry smoothy by your side! Some people may even say this is a picture of two smoothies. 😂

Thankfully, the traffic subsided by late morning and we had a relatively pleasant cycle along the coast to Gulf Shores.  It was only 35 miles today and we had enough time to have a wander around a nearby Walmart to buy (in order of volume) beer, fried chicken, cakes and water. The diet of a cyclist.

Next day was another short cycle – 23 miles to Dauphin Island. It was too hot to go much further. Did I mention the heat? 😎 Maybe I did but did I mention that this is the last week of summer and we are having record temperatures. Today the heat index was 115f or 46c. It felt hotter to be honest.

We had take a 40 minute ferry to the island and the nice guy selling the tickets meant well when he told us there was no shelter from the sun on the boat.  Susan was polite and didn’t mention we sat out in it for 7 hours most days. I mean you kind of wonder how he thought I got a sunburnt face that looks like it’s been deep fried with the chips!

The ferry journey was pleasant enough even although I felt it was cheating – we were travelling west and not peddling.  Susan has no such morals and thoroughly enjoyed the trip.  My demeanour picked up, however, when I mean a couple of cops from Indiana on Harleys.

We swapped cop stories.  I heard about the time he disarmed a man with a sawn off shotgun loaded with deer shot.  I told him about the performance management report I developed (sorry Iain and David I took full credit).  He told me about the time he arrested a Kung fu ninja who pepper sprayed him and tried to go for his gun. I told him about a couple of national policing policies I implemented.  Yes national!  I could tell I was impressing him as he could barely comprehend what I was telling him.  Honestly, it was like two old cops telling their war stories and we could have been there all day.

That night we stayed at the friendly but relatively ramshackle Harbour House Inn on Dauphin Island and ate outstanding prawn tacos at JTs Sunset Grill. As we ate Susan stared over the bay at the road causeway and the hump bridge we would have to cross in the morning.  I reassured her it would be easy but I could see the foreboding look on her face.

The following morning after a breakfast of biscuits and grits we were delayed by a heavy thunderstorm.  Before I continue I should explain that ‘biscuits’ are scones and grits are some corn pasta type thing that tastes as good/bad as it sounds.

Back to the bridge – as we cycled across the road causeway the sky was menacing.

It was even worse ahead:

Now I know what you’re thinking – what on earth is Susan concerned about that little 9% gradient hump in the distance.  I was more concerned about the potential rain and lightning and being exposed on the road.  It’s okay for those people in their trucks acting as faraday cages (I’m sure you all know what a faraday cage is).  Cop stories, science, this blog has it all.

Well after two short days cycling I was feeling strong today and thought we would get a good run at this hill.  We peddled and peddled and gathered up speed. We were flying along. Absolutely flying.  Then Susan shouted from the back ‘can we slow down please’. What? What? I shouted over the sound of the rushing wind.  ‘I had a dream last night I was catapulted over the edge’ she shouted back with anxiety in her voice.

Now let me explain. Every night before we go to bed we take a multi vitamin with minerals (good for old people) and two ibuprofen with sleep enhancer.  That’s just when we’re cycling of course!  I don’t know if we actually need the sleep enhancer but we do need the ibuprofen and it’s only for a few months.  The sleep enhancer bit though gives us lots of dreams and this night Susan dreamt of landing in the water and, as we raced along, the dream was becoming too real.

I wasn’t intending to slow down, of course, but the wind was taken out our sails because I found I couldn’t pedal fast whilst laughing.  So we struggled up the hill and at the top Susan agreed it wasn’t so bad after all.  Well the climb might have not been so bad but I certainly wasn’t wasting a 9% downhill on the other side 😀.

It was a short downhill and we only reached 40mph and just to show how considerate a person I am steered away from the edge.  I didn’t want to turn Susan’s drug fuelled dream into a prophecy!

That said I got my just deserts on our descent – our fourth puncture.  If it had happened three hundred yards earlier guess what would have likely happened – yup Susan may have been catapulted over the edge!

We can now fix a puncture in record time and we were soon cycling west away from the impending storms.  60 miles later we reached Ocean Springs.

Today, after another 35 miles along the Gulf Coast we are in Bay St Louis and that’s striking distance of New Orleans.  Oh did I mention another front spoke went today? Probably not because I’m bored of banging on about spokes.

So tomorrow it’s 55 miles with a broken spoke.  Last time at DeFuniak Springs we did 80 miles on a broken front spoke to Milton so it should be okay. But then again life doesn’t always work out as logically as it should. Does it?

Where the skies are so blue